


Second Chance

by Berrybanana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, But spoilers will pop up SOON, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Ficlet, Gen, Honestly no spoilers for FFH yet, I'm Sorry, Infinity Gauntlet, It's just set after, Not Beta Read, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Protective Peter Parker, Self-Sacrifice, Spider-Man - Freeform, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berrybanana/pseuds/Berrybanana
Summary: ENDGAME SPOILERS!!Peter gets a second chance on the battlefield. This time he's not going to waste it.//AKA Peter travels back in time to relive the Final Battle and makes a Decision.





	1. A lie

**Author's Note:**

> YEAH SO I sat down to write a chapter for LITERALLY ANY OF MY OTHER FICS (I'm so sorry) when this plotbunny popped up.  
> Again, I'm sorry. It's a bit clunky (no beta eek) so we'll see how this goes.

When the light clears and Peter can see again, his heart nearly stops. He’s too late. They did the spell wrong. He’s too late.  
His armour is coated in the thick dust of the ruined Avengers compound and all around him he hears the sounds of fighting. To his right, Thor and Captain America exchange weapons, to his left, the Hawk and the Black Panther tear through line after line of Chitauri soldiers.  
He’s too late.

He was supposed to arrive before this whole thing began, before the last stone could be put into the gauntlet or even better, before the Asgardians had been slaughtered- before anyone had died.  
Peter is about to scream in frustration, about to throw caution to the wind and run into the fray swinging because _what’s the fucking point in time travel if you can’t use it to save anyone you care about_ when he sees Him.  
_He_ fights his way towards him and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. _He_ whispers a nickname, shakes with unshed tears, unspoken words. Peter has no words. All he can do is cling to the familiar armour, his fingers nearly denting the metal with how tightly he holds Him.  
“Hey, Underoos.” Says the voice.  
Peter’s barely breathing. Barely thinking. Barely functioning. His brain is overloaded, his only thoughts centred around his father figure, alive and _hugging_ _him_ like the world is ending.  
It is. But not in the way he thinks.

When Tony pulls away, eyes soft and sad, Peter’s heart breaks.  
“It’s good to have you back, Kid.”  
Peter wonders if Tony knows what’s about to happen.  
He’d bet on it. Tony Stark, billionaire with the heart that no one fucking saw until it was six feet under, is always ready to make the sacrifice play.

Tony disappears back into the fighting and Peter is left staring after him. His body moves on auto-pilot and he chases after him.

  
_Mr Stark had always asked him to call him Tony after they’d become properly acquainted- ‘Mr Stark’ was too much like Howard, he’d always protested. Peter hadn’t gotten into the habit of calling him Tony until it was far too late.  
__Peter was always too late._

Time is stubborn, however, and as Peter runs towards Tony he finds himself drifting further and further away from the flashing red and gold, back to treading the same path he’d run before. A different enemy at every move but the general path- the general sequence- of the battle is the same:  
Electricity crackles through the air as the Scarlet Witch stalks towards Thanos. Water droplets spray across the wreckadge as Strange holds off the falling reservoir. T’Challa tries to outrun Thanos’ soldiers, carrying the Gauntlet.  
Peter’s eyes widen.  
_The Gauntlet._  
Peter picks out Tony in the crowd, still alive, still breathing.  
There was one life he could still save.

Peter lets time drag him back onto his previous path, ducking and dodging, swinging and leaping across the battlegrounds. The Chitauri circle closer to Wakanda’s king but a burst of purple energy beats them back.  
Any other day and he’d be itching to get his hands on the blueprints.  
He swings again, twisting through the air, stretching out a hand in invitation to the Black Panther. The king nods and as Peter flies past, Peter grabs the Gauntlet- the damned chunk of metal that haunts his dreams- from T'Challa's outstretched hand.   
He lands, the suit's legs absorbing the impact of the fall, and he orders Karen to activate Instant Kill as he holds the Gauntlet close to his body.  
One chance.  
That’s what Strange had said.  
Tony had been that chance and he had died for it. Not again.

The soldiers swarm closer, swiping with claws and swords and spears, and Peter knows that this is his one and only shot at this. In seconds he'd be overwhelmed.   
No ordinary human could survive that power _(the others had told him that as they made him promise not to do anything rash- “Just go in and destroy the stones”)_.   
Well. Peter was no ordinary human. _Banner_ had survived. Now Peter would get to see if his own radioactive miracle would protect him.

The suit seems to sense his thoughts. The mask retracts and Peter glances across the battlefield, towards where Tony is lying, beaten back but still breathing, ribs cracked but heart still beating. Their eyes meet. Peter feels his shoulders sink, his eyes soften in apology. Peter thinks that that look- that sudden flash of unimaginable horror that streaks plainly across Tony’s face as he realises what Peter intends to do, as he tries to haul himself to his feet and doesn’t quite make it- will be forever burned into his retinas.  
Tony risked his everything for the world. He risked up his family, his past, present, and future because he knew the rest of the world needed theirs.  
Peter was- is- grateful. They are were all beyond grateful- but the world needed Tony Stark. _He,_ Morgan and Pepper and Harvey and Happy all needed Tony Stark.  
This is Peter’s second chance. This one he isn’t going to waste.

  
Pepper screams over the comms, Tony barely forms words, just begging, begging him not to and a thousand people seem to cry out as one as Peter slips his hand into the gauntlet.  
The world seems to fall silent.

“I’m sorry.”  
He snaps his fingers.

And then, for the second time that day, Peter Parker is blinded by light.


	2. Illusions and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo apparently I wrote a whole 'nother chapter for this fic and a plot...  
> Enjoy?
> 
> //  
> Tony has visited Peter day after day in the hospital and finally, Peter wakes up... But it's not the same, sweet and happy-go-lucky kid Tony knows. This is post-Mysterio Peter who has woken up believing his trip back in time and actions on the battlefield were just a dream.

For a while, he barely remembers anything. Just white. Just pain.  
Then memories begin to filter through. Touches, some gentler than others, along his back, his head, the backs of his ankles. Each one draws some of the fire away, leaving his skin blissfully cooler where they make contact.  
With each touch, the fire lessens, and yet he still burns.

He vaguely remembers noise. Screaming. Crying. A bellow of anger and the clash of a sword before another burst of energy shook the ground, building the fire further.  
He was ashes once before. He remembers crumbling, lightning arcing through his veins just to fade bit by bit as he lost all sensation.

He remembers a voice.  
He remembers staring up into panicked brown eyes, he remembers smiling deliriously, saying _something_ and then only darkness.

//

Tony sits in the chair beside the narrow hospital cot.  
His hands are nervous, flighty. Wrapped up in the blanket on the bed one moment then rearranging the flowers the next. He traces the edging of the green sheets then goes back to wringing his hands, desperate to dispel even the smallest bit of nervous energy.  
He’s been sat here for just under five days. The fragile figure nestled in the blankets has barely stirred since he was set down here and it’s only the steady beep of the heart monitor that’s keeping Tony from losing it entirely.

He fought his way to the boy’s bedside much earlier than the nurses would’ve liked (they eventually dragged him back for more tests, more examinations, but eventually they allowed him to leave with the strict (ignored) warning to take it easy). Tony has no plans to disobey, really- he’s not got anywhere to go but here.   
Sometimes Pepper joins him and they hold hands at Peter’s bedside, watching his chest rise and fall. Sometimes Morgan joins them and requests more of Tony’s special Spidey stories. The one about the lady and the churro is her favourite.  
And sometimes it’s just Tony, just waiting. Regretting. Thinking. Wishing that it was him, not his son (because for all of his deflecting and blustering, that’s what Peter Parker was _IS_ to him- a son) lying on that hospital bed.  
He wishes it was him.  
He wishes Peter would wake.  
He wishes Thanos had never come for the stones.

//

Peter wakes with a start, lungs screaming, limbs flying everywhere. His breaths are ragged and erratic, loud as a roaring lion to his hypersensitive ears.   
Everything is a blur. Thinking coherently is impossible with how fast his mind is racing, overwhelmed with the sudden rush of sensory input-  
Voices, or perhaps just one, whisper (roar?) for his attention, loud and quiet and earsplitting all at once. Pleasantly low light levels are blinding and every atom of his body seems to be burning up.  
His vision clears for the briefest moment, just long enough for him to make out wild brown hair, years-deep eye bags and a telltale flash of red and gold.  
Peter’s throat closes up. For a few moments, he can barely breathe, let alone speak.  
It’s HIM.  
But it can’t be.

Closing his eyes, he reaches out for the Spidey sense, ordering it to confirm what he knows to be true- it doesn’t. It tells him about the soft bed beneath him, a large collection of items strewn across his bedside table and floor, and a person sat across from him in a creaking metal-frame chair.  
“Hey, Pete-“  
Peter shuts his eyes tighter, shaking his head. The voice- that goddamn voice falters, going silent, losing the fierce life, the gentle confidence. He’s not sure if the silence is worse.  
Slowly, he opens his eyes, staring at the image of the late Tony Stark.  
It’s perfect. Down to every last detail. Peter wonders how many hours of press footage Beckett had to go through to nail the voice, the mannerisms so damn well.

When he speaks, his voice is croaky in the way that only a few weeks’ lack of use can do.  
“You know, I think this is the cruellest illusion you’ve come up with so far, Beckett.”  
A bout of dizziness, then tiredness washes over him. The anger is gone, replaced with grief and exhaustion. Peter passes out, but not before seeing confusion, then fear flicker across ‘Tony’s’ face.

//

The second time Peter wakes up, it’s slow and cautious. His eyes flicker open and then he waits, blinking until his vision clears.  
‘Tony’ is still there, waiting.  
“Kid?” He tries, tentatively.  
Peter swallows.  
“You’re not real.” He says, clearly, firmly, as if by pure power of will he can make Tony pop out of existence. After all the shit that happened with Thanos, the idea is more than unnerving.  
Tony goes very, very still. 

Trembling ever so slightly, Peter looks him dead in the eye,  
“You’re not real.” He says again.  
Tony hesitates, and Peter doesn’t miss the slight shake in his voice when he speaks- “I’m here, Peter, I’m here- You’re fine, I’m fine, we’re all good, you-“ He swallows, fighting the rising panic in his chest- “You saved us.”  
His desperate ramble trails off as Peter shakes his head, his whole body shaking. Whether it's in anger, or grief, or fear, Tony can't tell. It broke his heart.  
“No- that’s the problem.” Peter doesn't dare close his eyes this time, taking in every last detail of the room, of his mentor’s face before the illusion can (inevitably) shatter.  
“I _didn’t_.”

Tony shifts, rolls his shoulders, taps the seat of the chair. He waits and he watches him, eyes alight with intelligence and softened with worry.  
“You’re in the hospital-“  
“Shut up.”

Tony flinches and Peter’s face falls.  
“You’re in the hospital.”  
“No.” Peter’s face returns to stone.  
“You’ve been here for just under a week.”  
The boy doesn’t reply.  
“The battle with…” Tony hesitates. “The battle with Thanos was seven days ago.”  
“What year is it?” Peter interrupts, eyes flashing dangerously.  
Tony is thrown for a loop but quickly remembers- Peter was Snapped. It makes sense that he’d be disorientated.  
“2023.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just waits, watching his face.  
“Tell me something only you would know.”  
Slowly, Tony leans back and rearranges his hands in his lap.  
He's very careful to make no sudden moves. The doctors had warned him that Peter may be a little… Off or on-edge when he first woke up but this- this is unsettling. His Peter was awkward laughter and soft smiles, not sharp edges and distrustful glares. His Peter’s voice is always a little too high like he’s about to laugh or cry. His Peter he knows he can always trust.  
This Peter is different.  
But he’s still Peter.

“The first time you came over to the Avengers Tower to explore the labs and try on a new suit, you stayed so long you fell asleep at the lab table. You’d spent the morning with me, first trying things on while I told you not to touch anything, then asking questions and poking everything you weren’t supposed to, then after I’d figured out you were a super-genius we messed with the lab equipment and raced robots down the corridors. You fell asleep trying to finish "Tinker"’s enhancements.”  
Tony smiles softly, and Peter’s face twists into something closer to grief.  
“May panicked, Pepper was amused (but not impressed), Ned covered for you, and then after a brief freak out the next morning we watched Disney movies in the communal area until you had to go home.”

Quietly, Peter watches Tony for a few minutes. Eventually, he speaks.  
“We watched Frozen. And you threatened to sue Disney when we cried because Hans betrayed Anna. And when I asked if you were crying, you pretended you’d gotten dust in your eyes.”  
Tony nodded, smiling gently but he feels the EDITH glasses hang a little heavier on the front of his shirt.

Peter sees his hand move to them and the lines around his eyes tighten in a bitter little smile that sets Tony immediately on edge.   
“You’re right to reconsider trusting me with those.”  
Tony doesn't ask how he knows what they are. He just lets his hand fall back to his side and stares.


End file.
